Time Jacker, Aaron Crash [most important books of all time txt] 📗

Jack jammed a knuckle into his temple. “I can’t work the morning shift, Kyle. But I’ll call and get a replacement. My head is killing me. Hopefully, I can come back for the afternoon close.”

Mac looked more worried than suspicious. Perhaps Officer Satterstrum was growing a soul. “Kyle’s right. You don’t look so good.”

“Thought I saw a ghost,” Jack replied. In reality, he thought that the woman in red was more demon than ghost. She said she’d be watching him. What in the fuck did that even mean?

Chapter Four

AFTER CALLING VIGILANCE Incorporated for a backup, Jack waited for his replacement to get there. They sent Kevin Burkhalter, a good guy.

Jack then went home, closed every blind, and laid on his bed with a cold washcloth over his eyes. He’d taken two ibuprofen and two extra-strength aspirin and drunk a bunch of water. He lay in the dark, on his bed, and waited for the migraine to go away.

Then he’d see what was known about Annie. Thanks to a friend of Jack’s father, Jack had a backdoor into both the NCIC and the CBI. That would be the National Crime Information Center and the Colorado Bureau of Investigation. The databases would have vital information. Jack shouldn’t have access. But Dave Winehouse was over seventy years old and trusted the Masterson family completely. At that age, trust was more important than rules.

Jack could check those databases, but there would also be news stories on both the bank robbery and disappearance of Annie Blackburn.

Even if he could stop time, he might still need to investigate Annie’s disappearance the old-fashioned way—detective work. However, Horns and the lady in red seemed to be his prime suspects.

What had Horns said? Something about something called the Tempus Influunt? He’d Googled it. Tempus was time. Influunt was flow. Okay, so that was the flow of time. So these creatures were outside the flow of time? How did that work?

The headache went away, and Jack thought about going to see if Kevin needed anything, but that bank was now probably one of the safest places in the city, statistically speaking. Bank robbers hitting the same place again was highly unlikely. A demon or a ghost showing up? Less so, it seemed.

Jack hung up his uniform, put on a T-shirt, jeans, and his normal shoes, and threw on his leather coat. He stuck the toy soldier in his pocket.

He then drove his Ford Whatever to go help his mother and aunt with their money. He’d tried to get Moms to do auto-pay online, but his mother was very anti-computer.

“It’s all just porn, Jackie!” she’d yell.

She wasn’t wrong.

His mom and his aunt lived in a duplex owned by his cousin, Eddie. Cousin Eddie was a piece of shit. It was probably because his mom—Jack’s aunt—was such a piece of work.

Aunt Sue stood outside their basement door, smoking a cigarette. Aunt Sue didn’t like much in life. However, she liked cigarettes as much as Jack’s mother liked beer. The pair could do advertisements on what not to do with your lungs and liver.

At seventy, Aunt Sue dyed her hair black, and it looked terrible. She didn’t do much makeup except for lipstick, and then she did too much. “You should’ve been here last night. If we’re late, you should pay our late fees.”

“You won’t be late,” Jack assured her.

He walked by her and ignored her frown. He just smiled and kissed her cheek.

She slapped his arm playfully. “Now, none of that, Jackie.”

Inside the duplex, his mom was sitting on the couch, watching TV. Broadcast TV. He’d replaced her antennae from 1950 with something a bit more modern, and he offered to help her set up Netflix. She refused.

His mom had a big belly and a big smile. Her white hair was short and thinning, but her eyes were blue, and she liked to smile. “Jackie! I have our checkbook ready. I have questions about my account. Money is always so tight. Cousin Eddie is going to increase our rent. I understand why, everything is more expensive, but I don’t like it.”

His mom wobbled up and he helped her to the table in the kitchen area. The wall had been removed, so it was really just one big room...kitchen into living room. The table itself was piled with bills. Sue came in to fight about money. She defended Cousin Eddie—he was a piece of shit, but he was her son.

Jack promised his mom to help her with the rent increase. Or he could beat Eddie until he was bloody. That wouldn’t be too hard since Cousin Eddie was almost forty now. Aunt Sue had started having kids early, and Jack’s mom, Rosemary, had started late.

The three sat at the table, all drinking Milwaukee’s Best out of cold cans that came from the refrigerator. There was a Milwaukee’s Best shelf.

They were careful not to get the bills wet. The beer was bad, but it helped them lick the stamps.

“I have cheese in the freezer,” Jack’s mom said out of the blue. “We could have grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup...like when you were little.”

Jack laughed. “No, thanks. There’s something I’m working on.”

“Did you kill those fucking bank robbers?” Aunt Sue asked, eyes twinkling.

“Language!” his mom protested. “I saw that on the news. I was worried for you, Jackie. You need to get a less dangerous job. I’m glad you didn’t become a cop, but what you’re doing, this security business, seems just as dangerous. Can’t you become an accountant? Is it too late to become a plumber? You know, your brother Bart had a friend who did well in plumbing. Poor Bart, God rest his soul.”

Bart had gone to Iraq and did not come back. Just one of the many deaths they’d had to endure. Bart had been the oldest, then Charlie, who’d been gunned down at a traffic stop, just doing his job. David died in a car accident, but he’d also